Opacity
by Saerzion
Summary: Following the events that left her mark on the Commonwealth, the Sole Survivor reflects on her position in the aftermath. The lost had been recovered, but the mother still grieves. She sees only a constructed changeling, and the illusion is not enough.


Valerie hesitated over the ruined crib, green eyes roving across the chipped blue paint and faded sheets. Her index finger came up to prod the single toy rocket ship still hanging from the tattered mobile. It swung back and forth in the fading light of the room, just one more remnant of a world she would never see again. She held herself in check as the customary ache filled her chest, knowing the past had already gone, and she'd have to move on someday.

Her gaze drifted to the north window facing the backyard, glimpsed through the broken glass to land on the wooden cross that marked her late husband's final resting place. She reconsidered her decision to place Nate's grave in view of this room, but it was either that or in the front yard outside the master bedroom, and she doubted the newer settlers would have taken well to the sight. A sigh left her lips as she looked away.

 _Or more honestly, it would just be strange to have him buried next to our room… which I'm now sharing with someone else._

The guilt over starting a new relationship had never reached sizeable proportions, but its occasional recurrence left her doubtful of her own ability to progress with her life. She shook off its tendrils now as she struggled to keep her thoughts afloat. Nate would never be replaced in her heart, but like it or not, having someone there for her in that manner helped her through the most difficult days.

Romance. A human construct. And as a functioning human, she had followed the instinctual compulsion to seek out a life partner. Whether permanent or temporary, it was something she needed.

She knew the folly of traversing this world alone.

At that moment, the sound of clanking footsteps filled the entire house, and she composed herself just as an imposing presence filled the doorway.

"Are you all right?" Danse inquired, his deep voice ringing with concern. "I've brought the new mattress and frame and left them on the front step. Do you need help moving the old furniture out?"

Valerie sent the former paladin a strained smile, still hovering over the crib. "I was just… having a moment. We can start adding this stuff to the scrap pile now."

Although she said the words, the rest of her body refused to budge.

Danse angled himself slightly to fit his power armor through the doorway as he strode inside. "If you need a few more minutes, I can wait. I just want to make sure you're okay."

She nodded when he stopped behind her and placed a gloved hand on her shoulder. "I'm fine. Letting go and saying good bye has always been hard for me. But I'm all right. I know to keep looking forward."

He reached out to close a loose grip around her wrist when she began taking the crib apart. "You can take more time for yourself if you need it," he told her, his thick brows drawing together. "After everything you've done for us—for the Commonwealth—you deserve a breather."

"Yeah, but our newest resident deserves a bed," Valerie tried to quip, but her light chuckle fell short as her fingers tightened over the aged wood. She lowered her head, fighting back a wave of emotion. "It's been a week, but I guess I'm still trying to come to terms with everything. The assault on the Institute, the battle, the detonation, the aftermath… it was just so much, so fast. And now this…"

She had spent half a year acclimatizing to a society two centuries after her time, searched far and wide for the baby torn from her murdered husband's arms, revamped herself from a respectable law graduate to an armor-clad marksman with a grudge, and eventually obliterated the most advanced faction in the Commonwealth. Toward the end, she had placed everything on the line, made a choice she would live with for the rest of her life. And as for the outcome?

Many citizens across the Commonwealth now called her a hero.

However, she still saw herself as the mere Sole Survivor who should have died a dozen times over.

Danse nodded and wrapped an arm around her waist as he brushed back her wavy sable hair. "You don't have to explain yourself. I can only imagine what you're going through. No one will hold it against you if you take more time off. We can resume this task at a later—"

"Mom?"

Valerie jolted, gaze snapping back to the doorway. Her chest clenched at the sight of the ten-year-old boy standing there. He stared at her with his father's gray eyes, tousled brown hair the same texture as hers, a dust of freckles skating over his button nose, his physical flaws perfectly designed.

A full-scale replica.

"Um, I don't mind staying in the common house longer, but I saw the bed out front, so I just thought I'd come see how things were going over here," he said, shuffling forward in Nate's old clothes and peering around. "Is… this my room?"

The programming proved immaculate. Everything she would have guessed him to be, he fulfilled. His personality revealed itself as dynamic, so convincing it almost seemed authentic. He demonstrated the childlike mentality of any other boy his age, curious about his surroundings and able to simulate every emotion as understood by a child. In some ways, she had found exactly what she had been looking for.

Valerie forced a pleasant grin and stepped away from Danse as she continued disassembling the last piece of furniture connected to her real child. "Yes, Shaun. I'll have it all set up by the end of the day. You'll be officially moving in by this evening."

It didn't escape her, the picture he and Danse made in her life. A synthetic substitute family. Together, they comprised an image of glass, fragile and transparent, set neatly atop a fading past. Anyone looking in could see right through the mirage, but given enough time and fabrication, even glass would become opaque.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and lowered her eyes to mask the lingering coils of a distant pain. "Welcome home, son."

Perhaps down the road, she could even fool herself.

x-x-x-x-x

 **A/N:** I'd imagine the Sole Survivor would have some reservations about that last curveball near the end of the main story. The synth kid was essentially a robotic changeling, offered as a gift by the real person. Not sure about anyone else, but my SS had an agonizing time trying to decide whether or not to bring him along. (As the player, however, I like that synth-Shaun makes cool stuff for me in the game.) Thanks for checking out this story. Hope you enjoyed it.


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